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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436295">give my new body a chance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/closingdoors/pseuds/closingdoors'>closingdoors</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, F/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:48:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/closingdoors/pseuds/closingdoors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She sits at his bedside but she isn't allowed to touch him. The most she can do is press her hands to the cool glass that encases his body.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pepper Potts/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>give my new body a chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I want to love like a man<br/>I'll build you a home when I can<br/>Give my new body a chance<br/>Patient now it's all that I have</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The suit is blue and silver but not red. Never red. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Am I doing okay?" She asked.</p><p>"You're doing fine," he replied, but his hands were outstretched anyway as they hovered only five feet above the ground, like he was going to catch her. <em>I'll catch you, I promise. </em></p><p>Her hands linked with his effortlessly, even with all that metal between them. The helmet folded back and so did his and he was smiling, the edges of his eyes wrinkling with it, and she smiled back. </p><p>"I've got you," he said.</p><p>"You've got me," she said.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The suit stands vigil in the corner of the room, a statue without a person to animate it. She sits at his bedside but she isn't allowed to touch him. The most she can do is press her hands to the cool glass that encases his body. She rests her forehead against it too and watches his chest rise and fall. Shuri says something, but she doesn't know what. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I can't just go around shooting trees, Tony." </p><p>"No, you can't. That would be terrible for the environment. And what would Morgan think?" He quipped and pulled out targets from the garage. When she shot him a look he shrugged. "I have a lot of time on my hands out here." </p><p>She followed him and watched him set out the targets. He no longer wore the nanites on his chest. The suit encased her and she flexed her fingers while he stood beside the targets and waited.</p><p>It would have been easy to picture the targets as something they weren't. Thanos. Steve Rogers. But her heart wasn't in it. Her perfect aim of the laser which shot from her hand appeased Tony, made him breathe easier. That's where her heart was.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Pepper jerks awake, the nightmare that had woken her already scurrying away from her memory. Tony's sitting upright in his hospital bed, trying to hold the prototype arm between his legs while fiddling with a screwdriver using his only hand. </p><p>He looks at her, that same smile slanting across his face, love and apology all in one. She stands from the bed and runs her hand through his hair, her fingers curling around the warm skin at the nape of his neck, his pulse thrumming against her palm. She breathes in and out. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He woke her in the middle of the night. She took the suit he handed her without question. Morgan was still asleep and the AI would watch over her, he assured her.</p><p>He flew ahead of her, always more confident with years of practice, and he flew higher than she had ever dared. But she followed and followed until there was nothing but stars around them. </p><p>She'd wanted to pull the helmet back, to kiss him despite the thin air and the cold, but she'd turned her face to the stars instead. The world continued to turn below them. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Morgan's feet slap against the floor as she runs full pelt at Tony. She flings her arms around him and doesn't cringe when the burns on his face rub against her cheek. Pepper almost forgets not to cry.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Steve Rogers sat on her front porch and Morgan pressed her face up against the door, watching them. Pepper felt for the nanites she wore on her wrist. She sent Morgan outside.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It's been a long three months without him at home. Sometimes she walks into a room to find him sitting there and startles. He doesn't say anything but he stands and they dance without music. She's still having trouble resting.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You hate it," he said, "and you hate me." </p><p>"I love you," she replied, and meant it. She loved the metal of the suit and the metal of her wedding ring and most of all she loved the scraps of metal that no longer pierced his heart. </p><p>He threw a spanner up in the air. It winked at her in the light before he caught it. There was grey at his temples now and the lines of his face more prominent than they had ever been. He was getting old, she realised. She was watching him age. </p><p>The suit, standing between them as Tony did modifications, stayed standing as she pushed past it to hold him. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Though his arm is gone, the scarring that webs across his cheek and shoulder remains. It spans out across his ribs, varying degrees of red and pink, and she runs her fingers over the bumpy burns. He closes his eyes and sighs, even though she knows he can't feel it. She knows these marks inside out. She could draw them from memory, blindfolded, if asked.</p><p>She dips her head and kisses his cheek, but this time it's in good night instead of goodbye. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Can I have one?" Morgan asked, pointing to the Rescue suit.</p><p>"No you can't," Pepper replied sharply.</p><p>Morgan drew back at Pepper's tone. Tony lifted her onto his hip and whispered a joke into her ear. Morgan laughed, suits already forgotten. </p><p>Pepper watched them, so distracted she almost chopped her finger off in the middle of making lunch. Out in the middle of nowhere, no-one can hurt them, though the danger left a long time ago. It was safe for her heart to double in size. </p><p>She looked at the suit but it didn't look back, because it wasn't her, just a shell to protect her from ghosts. She looked away and back at her family; what had survived of it. </p><p>"Tony?" </p><p>He turned, Morgan on his hip, apology already written on his lips.</p><p>"Thank you for the suit," she murmured.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The arm is red and gold and cold to touch. The fingers curl around hers as they lay together in bed. She rubs her thumb over the metal and sleeps. He'll be there in the morning.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>I fought the world for your hand<br/>Give my new body a chance</p><p>
  <strong>Body, SYML</strong>
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